39: School

The taxi weaved through the city streets. Outside, sunlight filtered through the window, casting shifting spots of light onto Lu Jianchuan's hand. Inside the car, there was a suffocating silence, broken only by the low hum of the engine.

Liu Yuqin's hands tightly gripped the rough canvas straps of her handbag, her knuckles turning white from the exertion. From time to time, she caught a glimpse of Lu Jianchuan beside her through the reflection in the window. Her lips trembled, but she couldn't make a sound; only the deep furrows between her brows spoke of her worry and trepidation.

Lu Jianchuan sat upright, his calm gaze fixed on the road stretching out ahead, as if he were scrutinizing an unknown journey.

Li Zhe's eyes—a mixture of grief, stubbornness, and an imperceptible hint of despair—kept flashing through his mind. He was almost certain that this fight was not as simple as it appeared on the surface. The justice and order that Uncle Li had defended with his life should never be tarnished in such an ambiguous way on his son.

The car finally pulled up at the entrance of a prestigious middle school. The towering cast-iron gates were tightly shut, leaving only a small side door for passage. A security guard in the guardroom cast a scrutinizing look through the glass window.

Registering, explaining their purpose, waiting for a phone confirmation... every second felt exceptionally long. Auntie Liu uneasily smoothed out the corners of her clothes, which weren't even messy, while Lu Jianchuan silently observed the layout of the campus.

They were permitted entry and walked along the clean but somewhat empty main road toward the teaching building. The grade office was on the third floor. The hallway echoed with their slightly hurried footsteps and the faint sound of lectures coming from distant classrooms.

When they knocked and opened the door, a mix of chalk dust, printer ink, and a certain scent of disinfectant wafted toward them. The light in the office was brighter than in the hallway, yet it gave off an inexplicably oppressive feeling.

The homeroom teacher, Teacher Zhang, was about forty years old and wore thin-framed metal glasses. Behind the lenses, her eyes were sharp and lacked warmth. She was sitting behind her desk with a thick class logbook spread out in front of her. Seeing them enter, she only slightly lifted her eyelids and tapped an empty chair opposite her with the tip of her pen, signaling for them to sit.

Standing somewhat awkwardly to the side in front of her desk were three boys wearing brand-new Grade 10 school uniforms. Their postures were loose, and their eyes wandered. One of them, with a nearly Green Skin buzz cut, had a fresh bruise on the corner of his mouth; he was pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek, his face showing a mix of indifference and a deliberate display of grievance. Another had his hands in his pockets, his eyes occasionally glancing toward the door with an impatient urge to leave.

In a corner of the office by the window, almost blending into the shadows, Li Zhe stood alone. He was half a head taller than the three boys, but his frame appeared even thinner because he was so tense.

The collar of his dark blue school uniform jacket was pulled askew, and the top button was missing, revealing a white cotton T-shirt underneath. On his left cheek, an inch-long bright red scratch ran diagonally down from below his cheekbone, slightly swollen. He didn't look at his mother or Lu Jianchuan as they entered, nor did he look at his three opponents. He just stared fixedly at the figures running and jumping on the playground outside the window. His lips were pressed into a pale, straight line, and his jawline was exceptionally sharp from clenching his teeth.

"Li Zhe's mother, you're here." Teacher Zhang put down her pen and folded her hands over the logbook. Her voice was steady but carried a business-like detachment. She first gestured toward the three boys. "These three are new students from Class 10-7."

Then, her gaze turned toward Li Zhe by the window, and her tone suddenly grew heavier with an unquestionable air of finality. "I have already done a preliminary investigation into the specifics. This morning, after the second period, in the stairwell leading from the second to the third floor on the west side of the teaching building, Li Zhe, as a Grade 12 senior, had a serious physical conflict with these three Grade 10 students, causing a negative impact. Grade 12 is a critical period; not a single second can be wasted. When such a malicious incident occurs, I must handle it strictly!"

As soon as she finished speaking, the boy with the buzz cut immediately craned his neck, his voice carrying a deliberate exaggeration: "Teacher Zhang, we really didn't provoke him! We were just going upstairs and accidentally bumped into him. He turned around and started cursing, then he just went and pushed me!" He pointed at the bruise on the corner of his mouth. "Look at what he did to me!"

Li Zhe's body jerked violently, as if pricked by invisible needles. He snapped his head around, and those eyes that so closely resembled Li Ming's burned with the fire of being slandered and a deep sense of sorrow. He looked at the three boys, his gaze sharp as a knife, his chest heaving violently as if a thousand words were stuck in his throat.

However, when his peripheral vision caught his mother's face, which had instantly lost all color, and the teacher's gaze filled with preconceived blame, the fire in his eyes was doused like a bucket of cold water. It quickly dimmed, leaving behind only cold ashes.

Extremely slowly, and with a nearly desperate stubbornness, he turned his head back toward the window, leaving only a tense and lonely silhouette.

"Teacher Zhang," Lu Jianchuan stepped forward, perfectly shielding Auntie Liu, who was trembling slightly and could barely stand. His voice wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear and steady, carrying a force that couldn't be ignored. "I am Li Zhe's older brother, surname Lu. We just arrived and have only heard a one-sided account. I believe the school, like us, wishes to handle this matter fairly and justly..."

"Teacher Zhang!"

Before Lu Jianchuan could finish, Liu Yuqin seemed to finally find a shred of strength from the massive shock and panic. She suddenly grabbed Lu Jianchuan's arm to support herself and took half a step forward. Her voice trembled noticeably with agitation and urgency, but her eyes were exceptionally firm.

"Teacher Zhang, our Xiao Zhe... I know my own child! From the time he was little until now, he has never fought with anyone, let alone bullied younger students! His father... his father was a policeman. He taught him from a young age to be kind to others and to be upright! There must be a reason for this, there must be a misunderstanding! You can't just listen to what they say!"

Her voice carried a sob, yet she struggled to maintain her dignity. It was the most direct form of courage a mother could show when doing her utmost to protect her child.

Hearing this, the boy with the buzz cut immediately let out a small sneer and muttered, "You can know a person's face but not their heart..."

When Li Zhe heard his mother's tearful defense, his body shuddered violently. He slammed his eyes shut and lowered his head even further, as if trying to hide himself completely. His clenched fists were squeezed so hard that his knuckles were bloodless.

Teacher Zhang looked at the emotional Liu Yuqin, her brow furrowing deeper. Her tone carried a hint of imperceptible perfunctoriness. "Li Zhe's mother, please don't get agitated. I understand that every parent thinks their child is good. But the facts are right before us: a conflict occurred, and Li Zhe indeed used physical force. This cannot be denied. What we need to do now is make him realize his mistake..."

"Teacher Zhang," Lu Jianchuan spoke again, his steady voice bringing the topic back to the core. "Because of that, we need to clarify the 'full' facts even more. Auntie Liu isn't showing blind favoritism; she is raising a reasonable doubt based on her knowledge of Li Zhe's consistent character. If the cause was Li Zhe acting out of a sense of justice, or if he was forced to fight back after suffering persistent verbal attacks or even bullying, then wouldn't simply labeling it as a 'brawl' and issuing a punishment be unfair? Would that really educate the person who was actually in the wrong?"

He paused for a moment, his gaze calm but firm as he looked at Teacher Zhang, and proposed the most crucial suggestion: "Verbal arguments are hard to settle convincingly. To avoid any subjective assumptions and ensure the handling of this matter can withstand scrutiny—making all the children truly accept the outcome—can we follow the procedure to request the surveillance footage from that stairwell? This is the most objective and fairest way. If there are procedural difficulties, we are willing to wait."

"Check the surveillance?" Teacher Zhang's volume suddenly spiked. The last trace of patience vanished from her face, replaced by an offended irritability and a total refusal. "You make it sound so simple! The school's surveillance is for maintaining educational order; it's not something that can be checked just because someone says so! That requires writing an application, reporting to the Grade Group, contacting the Logistics and Security Office, and going through layers of approval!"

"For such a small friction between students, you want to mobilize so many resources for surveillance? This is a waste of school management resources and a lack of trust in our teachers' ability to handle problems! Mr. Lu, please understand the complexity of our work and trust that we teachers have our own ways of judging and handling things!"

This categorical refusal, laden with a heavy bureaucratic air and a "less trouble is better" attitude, was like an invisible wall, completely blocking the path to seeking the truth through normal channels. Lu Jianchuan's heart sank completely. He clearly realized that for the teacher in front of him, maintaining "stability" and "authority" was a much higher priority than investigating the facts themselves.

As Liu Yuqin listened to the teacher's merciless accusations and categorical refusal, and looked at her son's lonely back—as if he were isolated from the entire world—tears finally couldn't help but roll down. She opened her mouth in vain, wanting to say a few words in defense of her son, only to find that in this enclosed small space, her voice carried no weight. she was helpless to the extreme.

The air in the office seemed to freeze, becoming so thick it was hard to breathe. On one side was the teacher, eager to reach a conclusion and refusing to look deeper; on another was the student, full of grievances and refusing to speak; on yet another were the provocateurs, distorting the truth and secretly gloating; and finally, the two anxious but powerless guardians. The truth was covered by a thick layer of dust, silently curled up in a corner, waiting for someone to brush away the shroud and let it see the light of day again.